He waves his hand in the air. “Go on down. Why don’t you bring a few up and I’ll take a look through them again too. Have you learned anything new?”
I consider how much to tell him. “Yeah—or at least something has been confirmed.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. “Barrett was in love with Petra. And she loved him just as much.”
“There’s never been any indication that Petra wasn’t loyal to Nestor,” Gale says.
“She was,” I insist and cross my arms, leaning forward on the counter. The weight of the unraveling truth is heavier by the day. “Nestor was missing for over three years. Grief can bring two unlikely people closer.” Looking up and taking a deep breath, I add, “Renata and I went to Edmond’s home. Poppy took her, and we found Jezebel.”
He sits up straighter. “Jezebel? She’s okay?”
“It’s like she was waiting for Renata, and she’s been at the inn since.”
He relaxes and nods.
“While we were there, Renata found something else. A note Cordelia had left for herself.”
He waits, but I can’t say the words, instead grabbing a notepad and writing it.
Renata? Eye-for-an-eye?
“That was it,” I say. “It says enough.”
The words curdle in the air between us. His brows furrow as the implications begin to settle. Gale’s frustration begins to visibly show.
“Bullshit,” Gale slams his open palm on the counter. “I refuse to believe it’s that simple.”
Crossing my arms, I sarcastically add, “Yeah, because a young witch having to kill her lover, sent to her by the fates, is so simple.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Gale sternly argues. “And you know it.”
“It feelstooobvious,” I agree and let out a deep breath. “However, it is one of the oldest forms of retribution between witches. You can’t tell me it isn’t a great possibility.”
He looks at me with sadness, like he’s already grieving me while I stand before him.
“Fine, yes. It’s an option.” He shakes his head and determination reaches his eyes once more. “I’m not ready to accept that yet. It begs the question—where did Nestor go?”
“That’s what I’ve been wondering,” I admit. “The Lost Herohas a few theories, but hardly anything is confirmed. The author’s personal belief is that Nestor left to retrieve everoot.”
“He went to see Calista?” Gale asks in disbelief.
I shrug, frustrated. “It’s not confirmed. He could have, but for what? What could have been so urgent…” I trail off.
Cassia Foxglove.
Nestor cared for her a great deal, especially as he and Petra were growing apart after her mother’s death. From Petra’s recount, Nestor wasn’t ready for the responsibility of a coven, and his eyes began to wander. When he didn’t return, Petra grew closer to Cassia, mourning her husbandandher friend.
When Nestor didn’t return, Cassia’s fate was sealed.
“Oh my Gods,” I mutter and clumsily sit on the stool.
“What?” Gale asks, coming around the corner. “Are you okay?”
My mind is reeling. “I think Nestordidgo to Calista. What took so long is anyone’s guess, but Cassia Foxglove was sick with decay fever, and they were… Well, they wereclose.”
It takes a moment for realization to dawn on him. He mutters, “I didn’t realize how dysfunctional the great coven was.”
I huff out a breath. “They were so young.” He gives me a look like,you’re too young. “Petra was only eighteen when she took over the coven. I think they made a lot of mistakes, but perhaps they did their best.”
“Is that enough of a reason to sacrifice your own life?” he asks earnestly.
